


Family Life

by KivaTaliana



Series: Swings And Roundabouts [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A whole brood of Holmes', Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-09 12:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3249170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaTaliana/pseuds/KivaTaliana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg is carrying, Mycroft makes a decision, John has a crisis, Sherlock gets confused, the children are cute and there's a surprise at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set about four years after 'Hell and Back' where things seem almost normal. It does at least tell you that there is light at the end of that particular tunnel. I can't write the series in order, my brain won't function like that, but I'll add stories and rearrange as I go.

Greg heard the sound of the door as he started to plate up the children's dinners. He had managed to assemble them around the table without any arguments or tantrums breaking out, and Will had even started to help by sitting next to Adam, contained in his high chair, and shovelling baby food into him. Adam happily chomped on each spoonful, his left hand clenching and unclenching in excitement. 

He knew Mycroft would appear within a few minutes, or one of the children was likely to wander off and look for him. Greg put the plates in front of Will, Nathanial and Georgina. 

Adam gave a cry as Will paused feeding him to concentrate on feeding himself. 

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Greg paused checking his other children to give Adam another mouthful, then he went to the sink to start washing up the pans. Adam bloated his cheeks out before letting some of the food dribble down his chin. 

"Urgh!" Will exclaimed. Georgina giggled. 

Greg stopped running hot water onto the pans and came to see what all the fuss was about. 

"You horrible child!" Greg told Adam, who stared up at him, baby food dribbling out of his mouth. Scraping up the mess he reinserted it into Adam's mouth. The little boy chomped again, this time swallowing before looking at Greg expectantly. 

"I don't know what you're pulling faces for, you used to spit food everywhere." 

Will looked shocked, he turned his head as Mycroft strolled into the room and pulled a face very similar to Will's as he surveyed the chaos. 

"Did I used to spit out food Daddy?" Will asked Mycroft. 

"Yes," Mycroft said, and although he had never witnessed such an event, he presumed that information came from Greg, and he had no reason to contradict his omega on such a subject. Will looked offended and ignored both his parents as he ate his dinner. 

Greg went back to the sink and turned the tap back on, adding more washing up liquid before attempting to clean the pans. Mycroft eased around the eating children to go to him. 

"I have a few phone calls to make."

"Fine," Greg said shortly. Mycroft frowned. 

"It's nothing immediate." 

Greg shook his head. "Oh, it's fine, that's what you always do." 

At that moment in time Mycroft wondered if he should have always been doing that. 

"You look tired," he told his omega.

"I feel tired. I...." 

Adam gave another wail. Greg almost moved around Mycroft to go to him but Mycroft was quicker, rolling his sleeves up and sitting at the table to take up the duty of feeding Adam. 

Will, still feeling offended, studiously ignored him. Nathanial looked baffled and stared at Mycroft with wide-eyed awe. Georgina, realising Mycroft was a captive audience, wittered away at him. Adam continued to demand his dinner. Greg watched them, clearing away what he had used to cook the children's food and setting up what he needed to do his and Mycroft's.

The little domestic scene was quite sweet, Mycroft inserted himself into it with a minimum of fuss. But he had been forced to take over when Greg had been kidnapped, he had managed for a year, he had had help but in the end, he had taken the role as parent very seriously. He continued to watch from a distance as Mycroft wiped Adam's face up, the baby gurgled and slapped his hands against the plastic tray of the high chair while he waited for his drink. Mycroft gave him the plastic drinker and Adam started to guzzle. 

"Don't let him go so fast," Greg warned. Mycroft looked slightly alarmed and had a brief battle with Adam to get his desire to gulp his juice under control. Greg watched with some amusement. 

"Does this child ever stop eating?" Mycroft asked as Adam finished and turned to try and get hold of Will's dinner. 

"Yes, because I make him. He'd only stop to get some sleep and just start up again if he could," Greg said. Adam twisted in the high chair, trying to locate Greg. Setting the pans aside to dry off Greg came over to pick him up. Adam settled happily against him while Greg patted his back. The baby gave an almighty burp, kicking in excitement and looking very pleased with himself. Greg patted his back indulgently as Adam gurgled in delight. 

"Right you can stay in the play pen for half an hour while you lot finish then the bedtime relay." 

"Do you require assistance?" Mycroft asked. 

Greg debated that idea but then gave a shake of his head. 

"No, I'll be fine." 

Mycroft didn't comment, but Greg knew that didn't mean Mycroft entirely believed it. 

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Working from the youngest upward Greg put the children to bed. Adam never objected, almost looking as if he indulged Greg's desire to bathe him and tell him a story. 

Georgina always seemed endlessly full of questions, which Greg did his best to answer, while trying not to yawn. 

Nathanial just seemed to like snuggling up to Greg as he sorted him out and got him into bed. 

His second son was the one that worried Greg the most. There were enough hints that Nathanial was developing into an omega and Greg knew how complicated that could be. He kept his opinions to himself. Mycroft was certainly happy with Will's alpha status, and he had probably formed conclusions about the others. He would want Nathanial able to breed where as Greg would much prefer his omega son to be sterile, quite hypocritically really. It would have been better if Georgina had been the omega, but she was another clear alpha. 

Nathanial settled in the bed as Greg tucked him in, his thumb slid into his mouth and he curled his other arm around his panda toy. 

"Ight 'addy." 

"Goodnight." Greg said kissing Nathanial. Will, lingering next to him, reached over to do the same. As sweet as it was, there was a very clear, 'go away and leave daddy to me' undertone to Will's actions as he watched his siblings put to bed, and he had full, clear, hour of Greg to himself. It was hard to now. He put as much time in with all the kids as possible, but Will had been the first, and it had felt special. All of them were, Greg said to himself, as he picked Will up to take him for his bath. But Will had also suffered the anxiety of a year's separation from him and that made him both vulnerable and protective. 

So Greg spent that hour with Will, listening to him chatter, behaving like a child, more than he did so if the others were around him. It was as if Will took responsibility for them, when he didn't really need to, but his instinct was to support Greg, so he bossed them around, and got them to do as they were told. That caused untold arguments with Georgina, Nathanial always quietly acquiesced to any demand, and Adam didn't care, he was too young to. Plus Greg got the feeling that Adam would be a beta. 

"Daddy?" Will asked, as he was tucked in, after two stories, and a little bit of chatter. 

"What little man?" 

"Are you all right Daddy?" There was clear concern in the question and tone in which it was asked. Greg blinked and looked at Will, who did look seriously worried. Moving closer Greg hugged him tightly, which Will reciprocated.

"Daddy?" he asked, like a dog with a bone, he wouldn't let it go until he was done with it. 

"I'm just tired," Greg said. "Now I've done it for you lot, Daddy will feed me and put me to bed, and look after me." 

There was likely to be some form of lecture involved as well. Although Greg failed to see what could be done about the situation. He had four children, and was expecting another. Four and a half months into the pregnancy he was bound to feel a little bit tired, and that was all there was to it. 

Heading downstairs, after Will had finally settled, Greg went into the kitchen to find Mycroft wearing an apron and competently putting the ingredients Greg had laid out together. The table had already been laid and a wine glass sat on the table by Greg's place setting. He got the hint and sat down sipping at the grape juice in the glass. Mycroft concentrated on what he was doing, but he kept glancing over at Greg, who had pushed things around slightly to fold his arms on the table and rest his head on them. He smirked as Mycroft carefully measured out the amount of soy sauce he needed. 

"You can just put a few splashes in, you don't need to be that exact." 

Mycroft continued what he was doing and then put the small measuring cup to one side to wash it. 

"If I choose to be accurate, then that is my prerogative."

"It's a recipe not a science experiment, and why did you bother rinsing it just to measure something else, which is being put in the same pan."

"Because that is how I choose to do it," Mycroft said, doing exactly that. "Do I criticise your methods?" 

Greg let that question hang in the air for a moment. "Yes." 

"Let us agree to disagree." 

"As always," Greg said, and staying silent merely watched. 

As Mycroft again rinsed the jug out a few minutes later he turned to check Greg's reaction, to find he wasn't really going to get one. Greg still lay sprawled on the table, looking entirely comfortable as he slept soundly. Mycroft frowned as he looked at him, aware of the fatigue his omega currently suffered. In one way or another the pregnancies he had gone through had been hard, this one because he was also dealing with four young children at the same time, all with different demands and needs. Mycroft really needed to do something about it, starting with feeding Gregory, then getting him to bed for a full night's sleep. 

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"But... if Will wakes up..." Greg wasn't putting up that much of a fight as Mycroft got him up to bed, strategically putting his omega in his room, so he could be in the study ready to head off any waking children. Who could possibly panic if they didn't find Greg in his room. 

"I will hear them, and I will tell them. And Will is generally unlikely to rouse. There is no particular reason why any of them should wake, and I am perfectly capable of looking after my sleeping children for a few hours, while you get some rest." 

There was logic to that, and Greg forced himself to concentrate on that, despite his worry. Mycroft could manage his children perfectly well, Greg needed to get some sleep. He ran that sentence through his head as Mycroft bullied him into bed. In the end, Greg snuggled down into the covers. 

"You're not coming to bed then?" 

"I still have work, and I am not exhausted and falling asleep at the dinner table. I will join you later."

Mycroft added the last bit to appease Greg, who snuggled down with that incentive in mind. Feeling disturbed by that Mycroft retreated to his office. He worked while he thought it through. His life had turned quite domestic over the time he had been with Greg, and presumably it would get worse, since the omega had signed the life contract, to stay with Mycroft permanently. 

He had been prepared to change that in the future. Mycroft was aware it could have been nothing more than a kneejerk reaction to the year that Moriarty had held Greg hostage, taking one child away from him the moment that he was born and impregnating him with another. Greg had been appallingly vulnerable that the time, and had signed without hesitating. As bad as he was at reading Greg's behaviour and reactions Mycroft felt aware of not wanting to leave Greg with any regrets, or force him into anything he didn't want. The purpose of that contract was to make him feel secure, since their relationship had appeared to be working towards such a conclusion, as far as Mycroft could tell. But they had managed dealing with Georgina, and had Adam after that, with another child on the way. It was fair to say that perhaps Mycroft could change the contract and remove the separation clause he had carefully added. 

Still, fiddling with it, just for the sake of it, might cause more trouble than it was worth. As he decided to leave it alone he heard the sound of shuffling in the passage. Getting up from his desk he went out into the hallway. 

Georgina had woken, and as she heard Mycroft she turned to stare up at him, blinking sleepily, and for a moment her eyes took on a hint of her alpha father. Then the pout wiped Moriarty off her face. 

"Where's daddy?" 

"Daddy's sleeping, he's tired. I'll have to do." 

Georgina debated that, shrugged and trotted over to him, lifting her arms so she could be picked up. She snuggled against him. 

"Is that 'cos of baby in tummy?" 

She had clearly taken in the careful explanations that Greg had given the children about his condition. Not that things took much explaining. All of Greg's children seemed to be highly intelligent, and that did not come just from their alpha parent. It helped that Greg had a knack of explaining things to the children to make them make sense. 

"A little bit, but daddy has to rush around after you as well, which makes him a little tired." 

"You could do it," Georgina informed him. 

"I am, now," Mycroft said carrying Georgina back to her room. She seemed to agree with that as she put her head down on his shoulder as he carried her.

"I'm not tired," she informed him. Mycroft sighed inwardly. Georgina could chatter on for England, and he still had some work to do. However, the little girl had to come first. He had promised Gregory he would look after them. 

"Would you like a story?" 

Georgina pouted again, her eyes shifting, so when Mycroft put her down on her bed, she looked up at him with Moriarty's eyes. He did think it somewhat unfortunate that she hadn't taken on Greg's features, as Will had. Most of the time her alpha father didn't show on her innocent little face but Mycroft would have preferred there to have been no glimpses of him at all. 

"How did the baby get into daddy's tummy?" 

Mycroft cringed. That was a conversation he had thought Greg would have dealt with, when the time was necessary. It seemed to be the problem with their brood of highly intelligent children. They worked these things out far too quickly. Gregory had to have told them something but probably not the complete facts of life. Mycroft had a few seconds to debate what Gregory would have said to the direct question. 

"There is a process, known as reproduction. All animals have a system of having babies. Some lay eggs, like chickens, and in people, and mammals like cats and dogs, they grow inside."

"How do they get there," Georgina asked again. 

"Daddy has eggs, inside his tummy, in a special place." 

"Like a chicken," Georgina asked wrinkling her nose. 

"No, different but the principle is similar. Animals need eggs. Some of them take the eggs out for the baby to grow, daddy needs to carry it in his tummy." 

"But how did it get in there?" Georgina demanded for a third time. 

Mycroft cringed again. He was tempted to tell her to ask Gregory in the morning but the alpha got the feeling that such a response would not go down well. Without even saying anything about it, and certainly not asking, Greg had made it very clear that he expected Mycroft to interact with the children. 

"The egg was already in there, but it needed to be fertilized for the baby to grow. I have to help daddy with that." 

"How?" Georgina asked, which she would, quite naturally; Mycroft thought to himself.

"That's why daddy needs an alpha, like me, I help him fertilize the egg and then the baby has to grow in daddy's tummy." 

Please don't ask any more than that, Mycroft thought to himself. He was not qualified for this conversation. He needed Gregory to explain all this to her. Georgina, however, picked up on one word and redirected the discussion slightly. 

"Like putting poo on the garden?"

Mycroft blinked and then realised. Fertilize, she was thinking of Greg and helping in the garden. It was good enough.

"A little," Mycroft said. "But it makes daddy tired to grow the baby and make sure he looks after you. You get tired after helping daddy in the garden."

"But it makes daddy happy to have lots of flowers," she said. Mycroft nodded. 

"Yes it does, daddy likes the garden." 

"Daddy likes babies too, and he has lots of babies now," Georgina mused after a further few seconds of pondering. "He doesn't need any more." 

Mycroft raised his eyebrows. Perhaps somewhere in that innocent little statement his daughter had given him an answer. 

XxxxxxxxxxxxX

"Thank you for coming," Mycroft said. John looked around the upmarket looking cafe, which Mycroft had requested him to come to. 

"A text is politer than a kidnapping." 

Mycroft raised his eyebrows and signalled to the waiter. "They do a very good afternoon tea here, and I think our relationship has progressed from the kidnapping stage." 

"Good to know, on both counts. To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

John frowned as Mycroft waited for the waiter to lay everything out, which seemed rather a rigmarole. As he waited John asked innocuous questions, to see if he could at least get a small hint. He had a ball park idea to work with. 

"Is Greg all right?" 

"Yes, although tired. My parents are driving down, they have likely arrived by now. It will take some of the pressure off Greg dealing with the older children."

John nodded. "Nothing's wrong with Sherlock."

"You would know more about that than I do," Mycroft informed him. 

"Your parents are presumably all right?" 

"Of course. I merely need to ask your opinion on a subject, and with it being a medical matter you seemed an ideal candidate." 

"Not Greg?" John half asked, half confirmed. Mycroft nodded and John rolled his eyes, but he kept them on Mycroft, looking him up and down with some concern. It was, Mycroft guessed accurately, not direct concern for him but more if there was anything wrong with him, how it would impact on Greg. 

In the end John wondered if Mycroft deliberately waited until he was sipping his tea before bringing up the pertinent subject. 

"I was debating whether or not to have a vasectomy." 

Unsurprisingly, John nearly choked on his tea.


	2. Chapter 2

Mycroft looked rather pained as John started to try and wipe up the mess he had just made. Alerted by the fuss the waiter started to rush over, Mycroft hurriedly waved him away. He would just have to leave a very generous tip for whomever had to clean up the mess. Taking the hint the waiter disappeared again. John coughed, wiping his face with a napkin, and then dabbing at the tablecloth with the swath of material. Mycroft pretended not to notice any of this, instead he poured more tea for John, which might end in further disaster. 

"What did Greg say?" John asked, recovering his equilibrium somewhat, while folding sections of the pristine white tablecloth to hide the mess he had just made. Mycroft looked increasingly pained and calculated the extra tip in his mind. 

"I haven't mentioned it to him."

John gave him a hard stare. 

"You can't not tell him," John said, the mild look of incomprehension on Mycroft's face deepened, so he elaborated. "It is a decision that affects him, quite significantly. He may not want you to do that."

"He has fulfilled his obligation to breed, I have five children, four of my own bloodline."

John frowned. "Do you think that Greg sees raising your children as an obligation. I use the term 'your' as a plural, you and him."

"Five is a large number to cope with. And I was well aware of what you meant."

"Yes, I agree, and to be honest," John paused to slather cream and jam on a scone. "I don't think it would have been that many without Moriarty's intervention."

The mention of that name caused a flicker of darkness to rise in Mycroft's eyes. John weathered the stare and carried on. 

"There's three years between Will and Nathanial, but he and Georgina are fairly close together. I doubt you would have planned that. Then Adam was something of a surprise."

"As in you didn't think Gregory would want to breed again?"

"As in it seemed to me that Greg wasn't as tactile with you as he used to be."

Mycroft's mind rolled over the times when John might have observed such a thing. There were presumably some instances when he had thought Greg might have shied away. Mycroft had been extremely patient in his dealings with Greg at that time, and he had broken through the barriers in Greg's mind. 

"Perhaps," Mycroft answered neutrally, and he steered the conversation back to the pertinent subject. 

"However, the procedure itself is simple enough?" 

"Perfectly, if that's your concern," John said. "That is not much of an issue, like you said, it's simple and won't take that long. Millions of people have been though it without any problems."

"Are there any possible problems to consider?" Mycroft asked with the intonation of someone who had already looked up every possible permutation and problem there could be. 

"Other than Greg killing you for not talking to him, no," John said. "I wouldn't do anything until you've spoken to him. You've clearly decided to do this with the idea that it's in his best interests. Which it very well may be," John said before Mycroft could interject. "You're concerned that he's getting overtired and has too much to cope with."

He had clearly hit the nail on the head, judging by Mycroft's expression and John carried on talking. 

"But I don't think it matters to him. He'll cope. You can't decide what's best for him, especially using the reasoning that he has fulfilled his obligation of your contract. I would say your relationship is beyond that; God help Greg!" John snapped before returning to his point. "I don't mind you talking to me about the medical technicalities, but I don't feel comfortable doing that when you haven't even told him what you are thinking!"

"It was a medical matter, I would prefer to have those facts before progressing any further, even if it's a conversation with my omega."

There was strong emphasis on the 'my' in that sentence.

"Don't start sounding all possessive now," John snapped at him stuffing part of a scone in his mouth, licking the excess cream off his lips. Mycroft sipped his tea, eyed the scones longingly. John slathered another scone and put the plate down in front of Mycroft. 

"I won't tell Sherlock," he said, smiling to himself as Mycroft took a tiny portion and nibbled on it. 

"I mean, Greg is still happy to breed," John said. "Otherwise Adam wouldn't be here. He wouldn't be carrying again." 

"Adam was not entirely planned," Mycroft confessed. "At least not by me." 

"But by Greg?" 

"Yes, I'm not entirely sure what motivated him, but it was his wish and he achieved that. He is an omega and therefore very good at getting what he wants." 

"From an alpha?" 

Mycroft nodded. "Your daughter will soon teach you that."

John's jaw clenched. "I'm aware of that."

Mycroft didn't look entirely convinced of that but let it go. "Maybe it made him feel better, or perhaps wiped out whatever traces of Moriarty still lingered. I do not know, there are times I know better than to question him." 

He sounded rather resigned but somewhat happy. It was probably the closest that Mycroft would ever go towards admitting his contentment at his domestic life. 

"At the beginning he clearly hinted that he had no desire to be a brood omega, but he took to it very well, and once they start to brood." 

"They don't want to stop," John concluded. "This is not a conversation I am entirely comfortable with, Greg will be beside himself if you do this, at least discuss it with him first. It's not the only way to prevent him taking in his heats is it?" 

"No, there are other methods. I have looked into the options but Gregory will not want to spend time at the omega centre and any sort of contraceptives are designed more for female omegas, there can be side affects for males." 

Which would, John thought, concern Mycroft more than any he could suffer via a vasectomy. 

"If all went well there would be no need for him to know," Mycroft added. 

"And just let him assume he's no longer taking in his heats. I think he'll work out what's going on, he's not an idiot. And whatever issues he has, this will just compound them."

Mycroft didn't appear to disagree with that. John ate the last of his scone and dropped his napkin onto the table. 

"I'm not going to say any more until you've spoken to Greg. We shouldn't really be having this conversation until then. If you have any further questions you can come back to me, once Greg knows!" 

And that, was the end of that, almost. 

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Nathanial came scooting out of his nursery group, at his usual speed, a picture clutched in one hand. He ran over to Greg and held it up, before turning to look up at his grandfather, who had accompanied Greg on the pick up. Mrs Holmes stayed behind with Georgina and Adam, who were both exhausted after their grandparents had taken them for a long walk, while Greg caught up on some much needed rest. 

"I drewed this!" Nathanial announced, "for you!" 

He handed the picture to his grandfather. Greg smiled to himself, a little sadly. Nathanial hadn't known his grandparents were coming to stay, so the offer was entirely improvised, but the little boy had a strong relationship with his grandparents. They had raised him for the first few months, during Greg's absence, and they had imprinted on him. Will had initially met them when he was three. Georgina and Adam had known them all their lives, but Greg had also been there. 

Nathanial wasn't affected by that slight blip in his upbringing. He had been too young to really comprehend Greg's absence and his reappearance, but Greg saw it. Presumably the others did as well. No one interfered, but that sometimes didn't make it any easier. 

"What a good picture," Mr Holmes announced. Greg took the hint. 

"That's good of daddy," he said, pointing at the scrawl on the paper which was Nathanial's representation of Mycroft. Nathanial beamed, and with that marker to go by his grandfather could easily interpret the rest of the picture. Greg held out his hand and Nathanial slipped his own into it. They walked three abreast, Nathanial in the middle, looking from one to the other. 

"Did grandma come too?" 

"Of course," his grandfather announced. "We've come to look after your daddy."

Nathanial looked up at Greg, who squeezed his hand lightly. "And you lot as well." 

There was a little frown as Nathanial pondered that, before he beamed up at Greg.

"Are we going to play?" 

"Yes," Greg said. There was only half an hour before Will came out of school. Greg had long ago decided it was easier to wait than to travel back and forth, especially with the hoard of children that usually trailed in his wake. 

The playground had a small cafe, and they sat drinking coffee while Nathanial ran off to join some of the children he knew, and saw there regularly. He was better than Will at getting on with others. 

"Is Will better at school now?" 

Greg nodded. "Yeah, it was bad the first year. Mycroft was right, the full-bloodied school were better for dealing with that. They're at least used to the caste bond between parent and child." 

"You could move him to somewhere preferable now." 

Greg shook his head. "Which would just cause more upheaval for him. And it will be more sensible to let the other children attend there as well, so..." Greg paused and shrugged, adding some more sugar to his coffee. He watched Nathanial for a moment, playing on the slide. 

"They don't necessarily have to."

"It will be better for Nathanial, all things considered. Georgina and Adam I'm not sure about. It's not like it's a bad school."

"You can hardly blame yourself for Will's problems." 

"I can." 

"Well, it's ridiculous to. He's settled down, the other children are happy." 

Something that Will often resented, Greg thought to himself. 

"I know," Greg said out loud. "Maybe I'm just feeling overtired." 

"And hormonal."

"I guess." 

Greg jumped as the older man reached out to take his forearm.

"You can't blame yourself for what happened, if nothing else that will just cause you problems when you try to deal with things. I know it's hard for Will but he will get better; he is getting better. And we'll always be here to help, you only have to ask."

Greg put his hand over the other man's. "I know that."

"What about your parents, do they not help?"

"They didn't know until recently, which makes me a hypocrite; I had a go at Mycroft after Sherlock came back and he took you to the theatre. I felt so offended because he hadn't said anything to you, and then I thought..."

"Your parents." 

"My mother is still alive and.... I think my father rather preferring that his son was not an omega coloured her thinking. He died when I was carrying Adam. I went to the hospital to see him. It didn't go very well."

"Some people find an omega son hard, even male omegas."

Greg winced at that hint, although there was no malice to the comment. 

"Daddy!" Nathanial ran up to the table and directed his wide blue eyes up at Greg. "Are we going to have sweeties?"

"Not today." 

Nathanial pouted. "Won't Will want some?" 

That was one of the hardest parts of Will's issues, his siblings adored him. Nathanial certainly did, following his older brother around as he was the only thing of any importance. All the children really seemed to like each other. Will tried, but he made it hard, and Nathanial was the ever placating one.

"No," Mr Holmes said, backing up Greg. "Grandma has made cakes, if you have sweeties, you can't have nice cakes after dinner."

Nathanial pondered this for less then a second. "'kay." 

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Work was wonderfully uneventful for the rest of the afternoon, and as he was driven home Mycroft made notes for the following day, having no intention of doing any work when he got home. His parents were holding the fort, but Mycroft presumed that he was expected to do his share, plus he also needed to talk to Greg. So absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't look at the screen as his phone rang. 

"Mycroft Holmes." 

"Why is John of the opinion that you are mentally incapacitated?" Sherlock's curt tones demanded. Mycroft's insides went slightly cold at the idea of Sherlock knowing the personal information that he had disclosed to John earlier that day. Then again John, as a doctor, was not inclined to go around announcing details of any patient/doctor discussions he had been involved in. 

"In what way does he think I am incapacitated?" 

Sherlock huffed. "He walked into Baker Street and proceeded to inform me that my brother was 'nuts'. I am curious as to the sudden conclusion, not that I am inclined to dispute it."

"And?" Mycroft asked. "He often thinks the same of you." 

There was a pause, Sherlock was clearly thinking about that. 

"No, he does not; 'slightly eccentric' perhaps but certainly not 'nuts', that has no affectionate connotations to it. What have you been doing?" 

"That dear brother, is none of your business." 

"It is when John spends six minutes and forty seven seconds telling me about it without explanation." 

"He has no explanation to give." 

"I was aware of that since I was six," Sherlock sniped. 

"Unless you have something to actually talk to me about, then go away!!"

"I am required to attend Sunday Lunch."

"Mummy called you." 

"Yes, we are having a nice Sunday lunch. John, Mary and Emilia invited as well. What is going on?" 

"Nothing. Mummy and Daddy came to visit to help Greg. Whatever they are choosing to do, and they can invite whomever they wish to the house for such things, are done in the best interests of my tired, overworked, brood omega!" 

Mycroft closed his eyes and took his phone away from his ear. Greg wasn't the only overworked, overtired person in the Holmes household. He pressed the button to disconnect the call on a ranting Sherlock. 

"Go away!"


	3. Chapter 3

Greg paused in the bathroom, lifting his loose tee-shirt to examine his belly underneath. It was where Mycroft found him, holding his toothbrush, musing at his reflection with a look of concentration on his face, which worried Mycroft for a moment. The occurrences were rare, when Greg zoned out and his memory yanked him back to the year he was held hostage, but they still happened. 

"Gregory?" 

"I'm fine," the omega responded, knowing what was going on in Mycroft's mind and having no desire to leave the alpha concerned over his mental state. "Do you think I look bigger than usual?" 

"You are carrying," Mycroft told him, his hand straying to his own stomach feeling the slight layer of fat that refused to move, more than likely because Greg found ways to stop it doing so. 

"Don't you start. I've got an excuse for staring," Greg told him, pointing at the distended belly. "And I am very aware that I am carrying, but considering the stage I'm in, do I look bigger than the other times?"

"This is the fifth time you have carried so your body naturally might..." Mycroft started, and then paused, his mind racing ahead of his mouth, telling him that what might come out next could be tactless. Greg looked up at him, waiting. 

"Each time there have been different quirks," Mycroft said. "I'm fairly certain that your various bumps were all of mildly varying shapes."

"That was not what you were going to say." 

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Plus, as I said, this is your fifth time carrying, therefore your body has changed over that time." 

Greg ran his hand over the bump, which was not too prominent yet, but he felt certain it was bigger than usual.

"I guess," he said, although to Mycroft he didn't sound entirely certain. Greg ran his hand over his navel again, pressing his fingers lightly into the swelling. 

"It just seems bigger. Does it look bigger?" he asked Mycroft, who raised his eyebrows. 

"I cannot honestly say that I had actually considered it's size and you are asking me to compare it to something I was viewing several years ago." 

"Not that long for some of them, Adam is only eighteen months."

"Which can be a relatively long time when asked to give a comparison of bumps, which will naturally vary anyway. What is your concern?" 

Greg moved, to view his bump from the other side, while getting on and brushing his teeth, so the next time he spoke, his voice was a little muffled. 

"I'm not concerned, it just seems bigger. Maybe your right." 

Maybe Mycroft was, perhaps he wasn't. However, he seemed to have a good opening to converse with Greg about the subject he needed to bring up, as John insisted he did so and he was, gauging that order with Greg's personality, entirely right. And, he couldn't be tactful about it, just saying it seemed to work with Greg. 

Mindful of the fact that he had nearly choked John, Mycroft waited until Greg had spat his toothpaste out before speaking. 

"I was thinking that perhaps I should have a vasectomy." 

Greg had been about to put his toothbrush back into his mouth. Instead he stared at Mycroft's reflection, meeting his gaze in the mirror. 

"Why?" Greg asked. 

"It seemed perhaps a logical step. We have four young children, which is soon to be five." 

"And that's your answer?" Greg's eyes drifted downwards. "You haven't gone and already done it, have you?" Quite clearly Greg wouldn't put that past him. 

"Certainly not!" 

"Good," Greg said. "I think it's a bit extreme. I know I'm tired but I felt a bit like that during all of them."

"This time you have four others to look after."

"I've got help, it's fine. Perhaps we have to be a bit more careful but there are other ways." 

"Some of which carry risks to male omegas." 

Greg blinked at the tone of Mycroft's voice, endlessly authoritative, and always possessive when it came to him.

"Some don't," Greg said. "We don't have to worry about it now, I'm halfway through a pregnancy, and I won't heat for a few months after that. Don't you think you're a little premature?"

"Perhaps but it seemed a sensible thing to consider. John doesn't think that there will be any problems." 

"You talked to John, before me?!" 

"Yes, he did say I should not have done so. He was also rather cross with me." 

Greg glowered. "If John hadn't said so would you have actually thought to tell me what you were doing?" 

"Of course," Mycroft said, a little too quickly and he watched with trepidation as Greg's eyes narrowed. 

"That means no you wouldn't. Jesus Mycroft! I would have thought that you knew better by now! You can't just decide things like that. Not when it affects me, and your family; you know, the people around you! That care about you!" 

Greg went back to vigorously brushing his teeth for a moment before he spat the paste out, washed his toothbrush, slammed it back into the tasteful holder and stormed past Mycroft into the bedroom. They were in Mycroft's room, it was where Greg preferred to be, but some part of his instinct, that wanted to teach Mycroft a lesson, told him to go back to his own room. It was always there, it would never not be, and he kept things in there, but never himself, at least not now. When Mycroft was annoying, or if he was away, he used that room, it was closer to the children's rooms, by about twenty feet. And wherever he was, the kids could always find him. 

Truth was, Greg didn't want to leave; nor could he feel that angry. At least not with Mycroft's thoughts and intentions. He wanted to do what he thought was best, particularly what was best for his omega, that was so prominent in Mycroft's mind that Greg couldn't ever get that angry with him. He knew Mycroft had come to the bathroom door and would be watching him, waiting to see his reaction, so he could do what was necessary in response to that. 

God he was irritating! Greg decided. He threw two cushions off the bed and pulled the duvet down. 

"Okay, I accept the fact that you think these things because they are what you think are best for me. But I'm not some fucking delicate piece of china." 

Greg hurled bedding around and then paused, exhaling heavily. 

"At least not any more." 

He had been so fragile a while ago, and Mycroft had made most decisions, put to Greg as ever so gently spoken suggestions. Even down to the basics of eating and sleeping, since Greg had been so subdued he hadn't dared to do anything for himself, without prior permission. Somewhere in his head he had known he could do what he wanted to do, something in his brain had clung onto that final thread that Mycroft had used to pull him back with. 

"I know," Mycroft said, with simple acknowledgement of the fact that he might have temporarily forgotten that he was supposed to talk to Greg about these things.

"All right," Greg said, his voice practical. "It was a nice thought, and yes, perhaps we need to think about making sure that we don't get me caught in heat, when there is a risk of that happening. However, I've still got over four months of this pregnancy, and I would guess about six months before I have my return heat, which is never too violent, and which is the moment we need to think about getting some precautions in place." 

"Very well." 

"Which does not necessarily mean you getting a vasectomy." 

"But it may remain a possibility if there is nothing else suitable." 

"I'm sure we will find something," Greg said getting into the bed and settling down. Mycroft followed suit, rather thankful that he was forgiven, and that Greg wasn't storming off to stay in his own room.

"Perhaps though, we should consider the layout of the rooms. Logistically, using your room as our room is better," Mycroft added as he considered it. 

"Except, the kids are used to us in here, and I was thinking of having my old room as Adam's room, when this baby comes. We need to update the nursery a bit as well. That changing table has served us well but it might need replacing." 

"Or fixing, Sherlock built that, and every child we have had has been changed on it." 

"Sentiment Mycroft?" Greg asked. Mycroft huffed and turned off the bedside light, feeling the solid reassurance of Greg snuggling against him. 

"Only at moments like this. I'll be my normal cynical self in the morning." 

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"We brought a bottle," Mary said. 

"For me, clearly," Greg replied taking the non-alcoholic wine from her. 

"And me," Mary whispered at him. Greg raised his eyebrows. John looked wary but pleased. Little Emilia wandered into the house, following the sounds of the Holmes' brood romping in the garden, running out to join them. Greg hadn't been surprised when the hospital, on a routine check up, had considered the idea that Emilia was full-blooded. Greg had encouraged Mary to get her tested, and John had blown his top, having a go a Greg, which had shocked everyone. 

Through the storm of that, Greg had calmly stood his ground, not yelling, not moving and just calmly saying, after everyone, including John, had ensured he was not traumatised. 

"It will be better for Emilia to know now, rather than live in ignorance."

Greg had felt rather pleased with himself. Not because he was right, smugness of that proportion was Sherlock's department, but because the anger hadn't frightened him. It made him feel utterly safe, because he understood John's anger. John had been angry at people for pushing Greg when he was recovering, especially Mycroft. 

But slowly Greg had realised that people understood him, in different ways, because people saw different things, and sometimes they chose to see, or not see, at their own discretion. He had been given a long slow year to think about things, courtesy of Moriarty, and he could not think that name without the fear flowing out from his stomach to possess the rest of him. His retrospect felt very clarified, and he realised, John would have perhaps preferred not to risk their latent genes bringing forth another full-blooded, but Mary saw it another way and John loved his daughter, his concern, being a father with a little girl, was tainted by what he saw Greg going through. He could see some of that happening to his daughter in the future.

Not that it would. She was protected by a community that would protect it's own. Mary saw that, John somehow couldn't, but in a way he wouldn't trust it, because he felt the community he had in the army had betrayed him by sending him home and the community he had built with Sherlock had betrayed him by throwing up his own genetics in his face. And Sherlock hadn't helped by dying on him, then coming back. 

"I'd be way better if I could drink alcohol," Greg said as he brought the bottle to the improvise bar where Mr Holmes was playing barman. 

"No, you're fine as you are. People work out their own problems, everyone does," Mary said. 

"John just seems to make them more complicated than then are. Mycroft and Sherlock simplify them." 

"And make them complicated," Mary said. "Are you all right?" 

"Better with the help," Greg said, smiling at his father-in-law as he handed him a glass of alcohol free wine, it was a hideous thought really, wine with no alcohol. He looked down into the glass. "I'm all right, someone else tiring out the youngsters. Hello!" Greg said as Georgina ran up and latched onto his leg. 

"So I can get some sleep," Greg said, ruffling her hair. "And I'm good. I think that was the thing, omegas are close to their families because of their needs." 

"You've got us now dear," Mrs Holmes announced as she passed him, patting his arm. Greg smiled. 

His family, he thought to himself then he looked round and met the father-in-law's eyes and knew he understood exactly what was going on in his mind. 

Greg had made the Holmes family, very, very, complete.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, you all right?" Greg asked as he walked through the French doors out onto the patio. 

It was Greg's place when he wanted to be alone and John seemed to have the same need, and gone to the same place. Mycroft did the same, because it smelt so strongly of Greg, and most scents that related to him. Flowers, and the garden and the open air. Mycroft had once, in a defenceless moment referred to it as 'clean'. Greg had found that quite freaky at the time because in view of Moriarty's actions he didn't feel so. However, that was not the current issue. 

John seemed to want to be alone. Mary never worried about that, when it came to John. She was latent genetically, but her nature was strong, and the circumstances between the spouses' seemed to leave her with a need to walk away, when John was like this. Maybe there was a trigger somewhere. John had always seemed like such an alpha and Greg guessed at the latency. Mary was even more obvious, every aspect of her hinted at the underlying bloodline, that was why, Greg thought, John had come round. She hadn't pressed, she had just merely existed on the fringes of his life, while she carried his child. Mary loved John, but she also understood him, and she understood the alpha lying dormant in him. 

"Fine," John said sharply. 

"Sorry." 

"For what?" John asked. 

"You've been annoyed at me since I encouraged Mary to get Emilia tested, which has nothing to do with what you learnt, although I get the feeling you would have preferred to live in ignorance." 

John sighed. "I'm not that annoyed, or at least I'm not that annoyed now. Mary's of your opinion, that it's better knowing. She doesn't often shirk the truth. Are you feeling all right?" 

"I'm inundated with help, and they enjoy spending time with the children," Greg said, sitting down on the bench next to John. He watched as John glanced behind him, and seeing no sign of anyone else turned back to stare at the moonlit garden. All the children were tucked up in bed, the adults settled in the drawing room; Mycroft distracting his parents so Greg could have this conversation. 

"Are you and Mycroft all right?" 

Greg raised his eyebrows. "You mean has he told me his solution to the situation?" 

John winced and shrugged. "I'll take that as a yes. If I had known the content of that conversation I wouldn't have even agreed to meet him." 

"You couldn't have known that unless you were psychic, or a Holmes; they are quite good at that. I think he's being over-dramatic, Holmes' are good at that as well."

John laughed. 

"I am aware that perhaps we need some method of control, especially since one of the children apparently gave him the idea. Georgina was the one to say I had enough babies and didn't need any more."

"I know the Full-Blooded centres encourage breeding, but five young children is a lot to cope with." 

"Along with everything else?" Greg said, reading the hint in John's words. John shrugged, glanced at Greg and then added. 

"I also pointed out that perhaps you wouldn't have five children if Moriarty hadn't happened."

Greg exhaled heavily. "I'm fine," he said as John looked concerned. "Just surprised you dared say that name, it's very carefully avoided."

"Can you blame them?" 

Greg didn't need to think about that. "No. But I'm getting a bit bored of everyone treating him as if he was some sort of bogeyman. He was just a very manipulative person." 

"He probably still is," John said. 

"He's probably not. I suggest referring to him in the past tense."

John's eyes widened. "Seriously?" 

"I think so," Greg said. "I don't think Mycroft ordered it straight away but I think it's been done. He went to see him." 

"He told you?" 

"Moriarty knew my due date and there was something about Mycroft around that time. He's done it a couple of times since. I know he doesn't think the rest of the world is as observant as he is, but I'm a genius when it comes to him, I know he did it. If he came out and told me, I think I'd kiss him." 

"You don't anyway?" John asked. 

"We're not the hearts and flowers type. I don't think we actually kiss that often, it's not how we've worked showing affection. I'm not sure we even do affection."

John frowned, Greg shrugged. "I'm not bothering explaining it to you, you don't get it. But I know what he does and I know why he does it. The fact that he has to talk to me about it sometimes passes him by, but I think he's learning. And I don't need to be treated like damaged goods, John. Mycroft and Sherlock are past that, I don't see why you're not." 

"I don't treat you like that!" 

"You do," Greg said. "You have a serious issue. You treat me like I'm tainted in some way, and I know you don't mean it, but you do it, and it worries you because you'll look at your daughter like that, eventually. But Emilia won't have the same issues as me. She will probably just meet someone she likes, get married and be happy, but she's an omega, she'll get heats, she'll draw attention. At least she is a she, so far less hassle. All you have seen of it is what happened to me, and I know that doesn't paint a good picture, but it won't be the same for her. You don't have to deal with the same issues as I do." 

"I've watched you guys together," John said. "Mycroft will protect you." 

"And Nathanial. I was talking about him. He's also an omega. I thought you might have noticed." 

Greg knew there was reprimand in his tone, and he felt it was justified. John had been angry over his daughter's testing, then her status and he wanted to avoid it. He had seen what Greg had been through but Emilia was female so her omega status was easy and acceptable. She would be cosseted and protected. Nathanial could be vilified for something that was not his fault and beyond his control, Greg knew that hard lesson. Not that anyone Full-Blooded would do it, but it could happen. 

"No, I hadn't. You can't be sure." 

"I was sure of Will, I'm sure of Nathanial. I know Georgina is an alpha and Adam is a beta. This one could be any one of them, I am capable of producing anything."

"I'm sorry, I know that..." 

"Yes, I know, my life's been hard. I'm over it. What I can't stand is you walking around making out that life is giving you a hard time, over bloody nothing. Mary made the right decision getting Emilia tested and she refers to me for information on it, get over that. And your next child could be the same or just be latent, like both of you. I never thought I would ever say this but; get over yourself!"

John gaped as Greg walked away. He got up to follow him, getting as far as the hallway until a scream distracted them all. Greg went up the stairs, taking them two at a time, knowing which of his children it was. They all had nightmares but one had them worse than most. As he reached Will's room the little boy had woken up and was sobbing heavily. He lifted his arms to be hugged as Greg came in, he had rejected his grandmother's attention and Mycroft hadn't even tried, he knew who Will wanted. 

"It's all right," Greg said. 

"Daddy! You were gone and I couldn't find you!" 

Greg sat down on the bed and pulled Will onto his lap. His eldest son clung to him tightly. 

"I'm here, it's okay, I'm here."

Will hung onto him desperately. Having been woken by his brother, Nathanial trailed into the bedroom, looking sleepy, pulling his panda toy in his wake. Mycroft, who was keeping an eye on proceedings, stepped aside for his son, who looked around, trotted up to the head of Will's bed to take hold of Bee and then came trotting back to offer it to his brother. Will snarled. Greg took the toy. 

"Thank you, now bed." 

Nathanial looked confused, still looking very zoned out. In the end he made for Will's bed. 

"I will take him to bed." 

Nathanial turned his head, still sleepy, and probably not even consciously registering that it was Mycroft that picked him up. He reacted to the scent, it was half the reason that Greg knew Nathanial's caste, he put his head down on Mycroft's shoulder and inhaled deeply, almost going back to sleep. Nathanial liked the smell of his alpha father. It had taken Greg a little while to see the truth of the situation. At the beginning he had blamed his absence for the fact he didn't seem to be able to bond with Nathanial, but slowly his clarity had heightened. Nathanial responded to Will, Mycroft, and also his grandfather, because they were alphas. The relationship between the parents and their children often came down to the instinctive reactions of their castes. 

Both William and Georgina behaved as if Greg was their omega, Will most especially. Nathanial however behaved diffidently towards him, nor did he try and enforce any claim on Mycroft. He just seemed to like his presence, looking almost awed by him on occasion. 

"Daddy!" Will whined, breaking Greg's train of thought, which probably was not entirely appropriate to the moment. 

"It's all right," Greg said. "I'm here, it was just a bad dream." 

Then he sighed as he heard Adam give a cry from the nursery. 

"I'll do that one," Mrs Holmes announced. 

"Thank you."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Still slightly shaken by the reprimand that he had received from Greg John went to find Mary, who had gone to check on Emilia, sleeping in one of the guest rooms. Their bags were still neatly packed. Knowing him so well, Mary had not taking their clothing out of the bags, because John had become the unpredictable element in the social circle. He would suddenly decide to leave, for whatever reason he chose to. Mary would acquiesce to the sudden change rather than arguing with him. There was times she felt a little wary of his reaction, because although he never talked about the past, her past, she could see it sometimes in his eyes. She couldn't quite interpret what the emotion was, but she felt it was better not to confront it, although she had felt a coward about it until Greg had said, so casually that is seemed normal. 

"Alphas are like that, whether they realise it or not, ignoring them is the best way to deal with anything." 

It had confused her, until she had watched some other people she knew to be omegas, and they had just confused her more, so she had settled for watching Greg, and focusing on one point had made the whole thing fascinating.

Greg had a habit, without realising it, of walking around like he owned the place. He could enter a room, looking utterly unobtrusive and have everyone's attention in the blink of an eye. Sherlock could do the same, but it riled people because of his personality. He was beta, and most of them settled somewhere on a spectrum from omega to alpha. His personality moved, and not just slightly, but from one extreme to another. That insight, gave her the key, because she could watch Greg, who stayed as he was, react to Sherlock who could behave as either, depending on what he wanted. It was the reason that Sherlock was such a concern, the violent switches were considered to be the root of his problems, and what had caused him to take drugs, and follow that path as far down as he could. Mary felt a little unconvinced of that, but understood why other people might think it, and Sherlock gave them no reason to think otherwise. 

Mary looked up as John came into the room. Emilia hadn't stirred, but the little girl had always slept deeply. It hadn't taken long for her to start sleeping through the night. 

"Is she...?" John asked, his tone hinting that he already knew the answer. 

"Yes," Mary said, tucking a blanket slightly unnecessarily. John came over to stand next to her, to look down at his sleeping daughter, who even in sleep seemed to display confidence. 

"I know I've been stroppy about it, but you were right." 

"About what?" Mary asked, as if his stroppiness and her correctness were everyday occurrences.

"About Em. Her testing. It won't be the same for her as it was for Greg." 

"No," Mary said straightening up and leaning back into the circle of John's arm. "I know there are things we have to watch, but half of them you'll be watching for as a father anyway." 

"Like what?" John asked with a frown. 

"Boyfriends," Mary said, with a slight grin as the frown deepened. "I can imagine you doing all that intimidation thing to them." 

"What intimidation thing?" 

"The whole, 'you're not good enough for my daughter thing'. I'm looking forward to it." 

"I'm not," John said. "Greg told me to get over myself earlier." 

"That's a little harsh," Mary said mildly. "But I think he's had a bit of that edge since... you know... that whole thing." 

"Of course it affected him. He's bound to be different."

"I wouldn't take him too seriously," Mary said. "I think he just wants to vent, and he's found you a convenient target." 

"You'd think Mycroft would be better for that."

Mary turned to face him, John followed to mirror her. She shook her head in answer to his comment. 

"No he wouldn't. Greg loves him, I think he's only just started to really work that one out, you never want to see the flaws in someone you love."

John looked at his wife. His wife with the murky past, which he knew about, but knew nothing of, and he never wanted to. She looked at him with a set of eyes that knew exactly what he was thinking. 

"No you don't," he announced before kissing her passionately.


	5. Chapter 5

"Will tummy baby have a face?" Georgina asked three days later, as she searched Greg out, to clearly ask that question. Greg paused tidying up the nursery, while Adam bounced about, clearly happily entertained and having no need for Greg to pay attention to him. He was having a scan later that day, which was why when Greg had been explaining the appointment to Will, and Georgina had got in on the act to listen. Actually listen, she didn't interrupt with questions like she usually did. She had instead, mulled it over first. 

"Not very clearly," Greg said. "But I said I would bring the picture home for you to look at." 

"So tummy baby isn't a baby yet?" 

"Not really, it's going to be a baby when I give birth to it and it comes out of my tummy." 

As Greg put some items away on the shelf of the changing bench Georgina eyed him critically. 

"When do you decide to do that?"

"I don't decide, tummy baby," - he randomly picked up the nickname without really thinking about it - "will come out when it's ready." 

"So tummy baby decides?" 

"Sort of," Greg straightened up and shifted uncomfortably as he looked at the carefully calculating expression on his daughter's face. It reminded him of someone that he didn't want to think about. Fortunately it faded and she wrinkled her nose instead, returning her face to that of a sweet little girl. 

"Is tummy baby a girl?" 

"I don't know that yet, I might today," Greg said. He had decided to find out the sex before he birthed. For the first three he hadn't, for Adam he had and it was for more convenient to know. 

"Will tummy baby be an alpha?" she sounded unimpressed with that idea. 

"I won't know that until tummy baby is here." 

Adam gurgled and waved his arms. Greg took the hint and picked him up. As he came into contact with him Georgina moved closer in a possessive gesture.

"Will you love tummy baby?" Georgina asked, which made him think that somewhere along the way Will had put his two-pence worth in somewhere. 

"Of course, like I love all of you." 

"The same?" she asked suspiciously. 

"Yes." 

She stared intently at him, as if calculating that possibility. 

"But I'm special, because I'm the only girl." 

"I suppose, it means I buy you different things."

Georgina thought about that. "If tummy baby is a girl, she can share some of my things," she announced graciously. "But they will still be my things!" 

"OK," Greg agreed. Georgina continued to plan. 

"And the others can share if tummy baby is a boy. Except for Bee, and Panda." 

"Why not those?" 

"Because they are special. I won't share..." she paused to think. "my princess doll, she's special too." 

"Right, okay, I'll remember that." 

"When will Adam have a special thing?" she eyed the toddler with slight distaste. 

"He's not old enough to choose yet." 

Georgina nodded, clearly happy with what she had learnt as she said. "Grandma and Grandpa are taking us to the park while you have your tummy photograph, will we be permitted ice cream?" 

Greg blinked at the rather shocking way she sounded like Mycroft. She eyed him quizzically. 

"Yes, I will tell Grandma you may have an ice cream." 

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"What's wrong with her having a decent vocabulary?" Mycroft asked three hours later as he sat with Greg in anticipation of the scan. They had settled them in one of the examination rooms of the Omega Hospital. Alphas didn't always attend but Greg, for obvious reasons, had become a special case, and Mycroft ensured he behaved as befitting the situation. 

"It probably means she is sneaking into your study and listening to you." 

"I am aware of that risk and I am very careful to ensure any information I pass on is carefully veiled." 

"With interesting vocabulary." 

"It does no harm to continually find ways to stretch your mind." 

"Are you saying I don't." 

"Not at all. You are constantly working in all environments, be it at home or at work." 

"Work is getting too much like hard work," Greg said. 

"There would probably be no issue in resigning from Scotland Yard and taking up work with Sherlock permanently."

"Except the overwhelming need to kill him," Greg said. Mycroft nodded. 

"Or you could find an alternative." 

"Really? That wouldn't mind the issue of five children underfoot," Greg said. 

"I would think there is something suitable, somewhere" said a man who clearly knew more than he was letting on. Greg's eyes narrowed but he didn't get a chance to question Mycroft as Jenny, the omega midwife who had seen him through all of his pregnancies and births, came into the room. 

"Hello love, how are you feeling?" 

"Fine," Greg said. "I look bigger than usual." 

Greg had already exposed his belly in anticipation. Jenny looked at him. 

"Each baby is different," she said. 

"Don't look smug!" Greg warned Mycroft. Jenny smirked as she looked from Greg to Mycroft. 

"I said much the same thing." 

"Don't be smug," Jenny informed him primly. She had never lost the slight trace of Scottish in her accent, which Greg felt glad of, he had always found it soothing. Mycroft settled back and proceeded to behave himself while Jenny set up the machine. Only Greg could sense the simmering tension in Mycroft. There was no actual concern over the pregnancy, Greg had now done it enough to know when things felt right and wrong. Not that he had ever had to voice any serious concerns, other than his first time carrying when he had lost it. He was a strong, healthy, breeding omega, and his body did what it was designed to do with a minimum of fuss. But Mycroft was an alpha, and they could end up utterly irrational about this sort of thing. 

"Right, we can get a good look at baby, and make sure everything is all right," Jenny said. 

"Everything seems fine," Greg said. 

"So we're what? Four months, you thought?" 

"That was the last heat, and I didn't get anything on the next round."

"Yes, you should have had a scan before now." 

Greg signed. "Yeah, but things are a bit busy and it all felt fine." 

Jenny nodded. "Let's have a look then." 

It was a little hard to work out what was what on the screen. Greg had got better at it, and Mycroft squinted in a way that made Greg think it ought to take his alpha off to an optician. But Jenny, trained in such things just knew and as she angled the scanner after a comment of. 

"Oh, would you look at that."

Greg decided that the world, his world at least had gone mad. 

"A second heartbeat. She's hiding but there, right there. Twins, you're having twins."


	6. Chapter 6

Could he kill Mycroft for being fertile? Or was Greg just as annoyingly fertile? 

He was fine, the baby; the babies were fine, his children were fine. Nobody was to blame for his own body being as productive as it was. It was just a fact, he was a physically healthy, productive brood omega. He was the one thing that he had never, in his younger years, wanted to be. The only thing was, now he was doing it, he realised just how naturally good at it he was. It had filtered into every aspect of his life before now. 

Because of it he had been so tolerant of Sherlock, who had enough problems of his own, but had realised Greg's, and when that particular balloon had gone up, Mycroft had been waiting. Not that Sherlock had particularly liked that manoeuvre his older brother had pulled, in contracting Greg to breed on. 

Still, all in all, that one had worked out quite well. Apart from the whole Moriarty aspect of it. And that in years to come would be an entirely different drama. 

Greg gave a sigh and went back to looking at the scenery as they drove. Mycroft glanced in his direction but said nothing. The drive had been entirely silent, and Greg had settled comfortably in the passenger seat. Greg was the far better driver but Mycroft often took the responsibility, which in his mind was appropriate. 

Sometimes it annoyed Greg, more often than not it did, but there were times he just couldn't be bothered. This was one of them. He just got into the car in a daze and let Mycroft carry him off. 

Now they pulled into the driveway and Mycroft parked with extreme care. His parents car was still absent, he noted. Mycroft turned off the engine and looked at Greg. 

"Are you all right?" 

"Perfectly," Greg said. "Just thinking." 

"Quite." 

They continued to sit silently. There was nothing uncomfortable about it. Greg liked that. Mycroft might have been his bonded alpha, he had worn no other cufflinks since the Christmas when Greg had given him the set designed with the bonding symbol, but he never asserted himself when Greg didn't want it. 

Mycroft sat back and let Greg sit and process his thoughts. He had quite a few of his own to work through. Some of them were work related, but mostly domestic. Mycroft looked at his austere house, which now teemed with activity involving children, grandparents and, most especially, Gregory, making it their own. Mycroft liked it; after so many years of deciding it was not an advantage to care, he knew he did. 

Not in a conventional way, he knew that, but Gregory had taken it that easily. There had been moments of almost debilitating crisis, equal to, if not above, what Mycroft had gone through with Sherlock, and Mycroft had ridden through it all as best he could. 

They had all got out the other side, not unscathed but also wiser and far stronger that Mycroft could ever have imagined. 

The companionable silence continued until the gates clanked again and Mycroft used the rear view mirror to watch them drift open. His hand slid into his jacket and the gun resting there. And he retracted the hand the moment he saw the front of his parents car. He looked sideways at Greg, eyeing him with amusement, Greg's own hand slowly sliding from inside his jacket.

They both sat back again savouring the few peaceful seconds until the children were unleashed. 

Georgina came first, trotting around the car with purpose, announcing in a loud, piping voice. 

"Daddy can tell us about the tummy baby!" 

Greg's hands drifted to his stomach. 'Tummy babies,' he thought to himself. 

"Told you I was bigger than usual," he said to Mycroft. 

"Yes!" Nathanial's voice agreed with Georgina as he followed on his sister's heels. 

Greg watched them advance via the wing mirror, then he looked at the scan picture in his hands before saying, without looking at Mycroft. 

"You were saying something about a vasectomy?" 

"I will be making an appointment first thing in the morning."


End file.
